Slipped
by Gwenneth
Summary: Second in my "What if?" series, the first being "Hit". What if Legolas was wounded at Pelennor Fields? This is how it could have happened if he was. AU Movieverse, complete, spoilers for RotK.


**Slipped  
**By Gwenneth

**Disclaimer: **Not mine. These wonderful characters belong to JRR Tolkien and I am just borrowing them for this story. I am not making any money from this writing, just the enjoyment of pleasing readers.

**Summary: **Second in the "What if?" Series, as I've now named it. The series deals with what-if scenarios for the movies. The first was Hit, a "What if Legolas was wounded at Helm's Deep?" story. This one, what if he was wounded at Pelennor Fields? There is basis for this, according to a reviewer of mine who brought up some very good points. Thanks LegolasLover2003 for these inspiring words:

"pulls out her LOTR book  
Beginning of the last paragraph of "The Battle of the Pelennor Fields" before the song.  
Aragorn and Eomer and Imrahil rode back towards the Gate of the City, and they were now weary beyond joy or sorrow. These there were unscathed, for such was their fortune and the skill and might of their arms, and few indeed had dared to abide them or look on their faces in the hour of their wrath. But many others were hurt or maimed or dead upon the field.  
See... I took that as Legolas was hurt.  
Also, if you watch all of LOTR in order at once, you'll notice that Legolas stands the same (Orli is doing what is called the "Neutral Position" in acting) every single time. His arms are down at his sides whenever the camera is not on him. But, if you notice in Minas Tirith's throne room... Legolas stands with his arms folded. It appears he's either holding his side just under his left arm, or his right elbow."

**Rating: **Uhm...PG? I don't think it's anything bad...just a bit violent.

**Warning: Movie spoilers...I do talk about the movie...this is AU Movieverse! ALSO, I have not had this beta'd, please don't flame me for it...**

* * *

Legolas and Gimli watched their transparent, green companions closely; neither of them too

comfortable in the company of the Men under the Mountain. Aragorn, on the other hand, seemed unaffected by the fact they were traveling with long-dead murders and traitors.

"Aragorn, are you certain they will not abandon us this time around? When they see the sheer numbers of Mordor's forces?" Gimli was glaring unabashedly at the King of the ghostly army. The hovering spirit paid him no mind.

Sighing, Aragorn placed a hand on Gimli's shoulder. "They will hold true to their word, Gimli son of Gloin, just as you have been so steadfastly doing."

Legolas, whose eyes were riveted to the water just over the side of the ship, spoke lightly. "Aren't the waters beautiful, Aragorn? They are tranquil and quiet; only disturbed by the ship coursing through them."

Worry shone in Aragorn's eyes. Legolas was in a daze, transfixed by the water. And Aragorn worried. Sealonging in Elves was an incurable malady. _No, not a malady, _he corrected himself. _I think of it as such because I do not wish to lose him forever. It is too soon. _

Then, a ghostly sentry approached his King and spoke in low tones. There was a nod from the King under the Mountain, who then came to hover beside Aragorn. "Heir of Isildur, we are there," he said.

Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli stood and approached the side of the ship. A large force of Orcs and Uruk's awaited the arrival of their allies, the Men who had previously filled these ships, the Men that the ghostly army had wreaked havoc upon and all but destroyed.

"We shall go on my mark," called out Aragorn, just loudly enough to be heard by those aboard ship, but not by those on land. Legolas and Gimli shifted their weapons to make the leap to the ground easier.

"Go!" Called Aragorn.

And they went. The three living warriors hit the ground, shook off the impact and moved slowly toward the teeming masses. The ghosts sailed over the side in a blanket of green. The Orcs and Uruk's panicked, beginning to back away from the blanket's quick approach, but many of them were simply bowled over by the tidal wave of ghosts.

Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn joined the fray soon enough. Though he had begun by shooting off arrows, Legolas soon found there were too many Orcs, too close by, for him to continue thus. So he drew his blades and began to slash away.

Gimli, hacking at anything and everything black and evil, began the game anew. "Fifteen...sixteen...seventeen, eighteen!"

Legolas smiled wanly as he too began to count outloud. "Twenty-seven, twenty-eight!"

Gimli grunted.

"Legolas!"

It had been Aragorn who called, but he was not calling for aide, rather he was imploring the Elf to do something about the approaching danger. Legolas turned around and his eyes widened.

A gigantic Mumakil was stomping this way, trampling many unfortunate beings, Orc and Human, on its path toward the newcomers. The ghostly army was occupied elsewhere and Legolas knew he had to do something.

So, with a quick glance toward Gimli, he took a deep breath and ran. Straight toward the creature.

"Damn that Elf! He's going to be the death of me yet!" Gimli cursed under his breath, watching between axe strokes to see if his new friend would survive this crazy attack of his.

Legolas reached the Mumakil in no time, timing his leap just so. He grasped the wooden spikes attached to the creatures trunk and was immediately jerked upward. He felt his grip slipping and readjusted quickly.

Seeing a new foothold, he released the trunk and landed on the ropes holding the riders perch atop the Mumakil. Then, seeing a number of firmly imbedded arrows, he began to climb upward until he was standing, albeit unsteadily, on top the creature's flank.

Aragorn, meanwhile, watched the scene unfold apprehensively. _Why did I have to call out to him? If he gets himself killed, I'll never forgive myself. _

He turned and laid into the nearest Orc, relieving his worry through fierce battle.

_Not one of my brightest ideas, _Legolas though to himself as he swayed on the creatures back. But he kept counting. "Thirty-seven, thirty-eight..."

There were too many atop the creature. He had to do something else. He grabbed hold of a dangling rope and flung himself over the side of the creature. He hit the Mumakil's side with such force, the wind was knocked out of him and he cringed in pain.

Red hot fire spread through his chest and he gasped, trying desperately not to lose his grip. If he fell now, there was no getting out of this alive. The drop was too great and now he was certain he had broken ribs.

Breathing as deeply as he could, the Elf pulled one of his knives from its sheath with a good deal of difficulty. He felt the broken ribs shift about and he hoped he would not puncture anything.

Using the knife, he slashed at all the ropes he was near and felt himself being dragged upward. He tried to walk up the side of the Mumakil, but was more so running up by the time he reached the top.

But he had nearly succeeded and couldn't stop now.

Again reaching over his shoulder, cringing in pain, he drew two long, gold and green fletched arrows and notched them both to his Bow of Galadriel. The arrows sang and sank deeply into the brain of the creature, sending him crashing, lifeless, to the ground.

Legolas rode out the fall, slipping down the creature's trunk, slightly unbalanced when he landed, but hiding it well with an odd quirk of the head as opposed to the pain his body tried to show.

Gimli seemed to take that look as mockery. "That still only counts as one," he rumbled, turning to take on new enemies, knowing full well that counted for more then one.

The Elf didn't comment on that, which in itself was sign enough something wasn't quite right. Favoring his left side, he made quick work of the nearby Orcs. Then, he, Aragorn and Gimli watched as the green tidal wave swept across the field and into the city of Minas Tirith, clearing out the levels on the White City as they went.

Aragorn turned to Legolas, who looked pale and was slightly hunched. There was a slowly spreading dark stain on his tunic, just under his left arm. "Legolas? Are you well?"

The man approached his friend, who immediately shied away. "Fine, not a problem."

Gimli huffed again. "Not a problem, lad? I see a problem; all that blood you're trying to hide is definitely a problem. You have got to stop doing that."

Legolas frowned as Aragorn made him life his arm. "When you are as old as I, Gimli, you will find that old habits die hard."

"How did you do this?" Aragorn asked, prodding the wound.

The Elf jerked away sharply, glaring at the Man who chuckled lightly at the look he was receiving. Then, Legolas answered. "When I hit the flank of that Mumakil, I broke a few ribs. The jarring must have made one of them cut through to the outside. Better out then in a lung, I say." 

Aragorn nodded lightly. "Interesting...I'd have said better unbroken than broken at all. But you have a point; you will not drown in your own blood...so long as we keep these well bound and unmoving."

Legolas read the look in Aragorn's eyes. "I will rest while you do, but I will not remain behind. This war is not over yet, I will see it to its end, whatever end that may be."

"_Iston, mellon nin,_" Aragorn said with a small, sad smile. "The oath of an Elf, Dwarf, Man or Hobbit is not easily broken. We will all see this war through to its end. Together."

He took hold of the Elf's elbow and began to lead him toward the White City. "Have you ever been here before, my good friends? The White City is a grand place indeed."

And he launched into tales of his time as Thorongil and his own experiences of the White City of Gondor.

* * *

**_NOTE: There is word-for-word movie script here....it is NOT all my own work..._**

They had all assembled in the throne room and were batting around ideas for their next step. Gandalf reported that Sauron's minions were amassing behind the Black Gates. "Many more then the meager numbers we have remaining," he said darkly.

Legolas, standing near Aragorn, clutched his aching side, but kept both arms crossed so as to look unharmed, just relaxed. He was anything but relaxed. His side was killing him, not literally, no, just metaphorically speaking.

Gimli sat nearby as well, a pipe in hand, casting looks at his Elf friend, grimacing at the way he was holding onto his ribs. Aragorn wasn't oblivious either. But true to his word, he had not disclosed Legolas' condition to anyone else.

The Dwarf was listening to what was going on, but he was not as in tune as usual. He heard Gandalf's words clearly. "...behind the walls of Mordor the enemy is re-grouping."

Gimli chose now to interject his own thoughts. "Let them stay there...Let them rot! Why should we care?"

But his suggestion was quickly shot down. They needed to do something or Frodo and Sam would never reach Mount Doom. So Aragorn, showing the King he was soon to be, made a suggestion himself.

"He needs time, and safe passage across the Plains of Gorgoroth. We can give him that. Draw out Sauron's armies, empty his lands. Then we gather out full strength and march on the Black Gate."

Eomer, who now stood in his Uncle's place as King of the Mark, shook his head slowly. "We cannot achieve victory through strength of arms."

"Not for ourselves...but we can give Frodo his chance if we keep Sauron's Eye fixed upon us!" Gandalf said, his excitement at the prospect of still being successful rubbing off on the others.

"Keep him blind to all else that moves," Aragorn said.

"A diversion..."

Legolas finished the plan out with that and all were silent. Despite the severity of the situation, Gimli just couldn't pass up the chance to joke a bit. The atmosphere really needed lightening.

"Certainty of death! Small chance of success! What are we waiting for!?" he said, pipe in mouth.

There was a cacophony of sound then as Eomer hurried to gather the necessary forces, leaving Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas in the throne room. Gandalf went away to prepare, though no one quite knew what he did to prepare for battle.

Legolas was still far more pale then usual. "My friend, are you sure you should accompany us?"

Aragorn bit his tongue and refrained from continuing when he saw the look in Legolas' eyes. "I am going."

The Man sighed now. "Just let me take another look please? I don't want you to fight with this half bandaged, Legolas."

The Elf nodded lightly, helping Aragorn remove the tunic and reveal his wound. It had stopped bleeding, but the bandages were soiled and Aragorn quickly set about rewrapping Legolas' side. The latter tried not to cringe, but just couldn't help it.

He glared at Gimli's raised eyebrows. "We aren't perfect you know. I'll bet everyone will think me unharmed...unscathed during the battle. You two, on the other hand, are full of caked and dried blood."

Aragorn chuckled. "Yes, Legolas. But we did not change our bloody clothes as you are wont to do. Nor do we hide said injuries from others."

Legolas frowned. "As I have said, old habits die hard, Aragorn. I have hidden injury since I was an elfling," he glared again at Gimli, who looked about to comment. "Yes, even I was at one time a wayward Elfling, Gimli."

The Dwarf laughed. "I can't picture it laddie. I just can't."

Legolas grunted in a most unElflike way. "You continue to call me laddie. Do you realize just how much older then you I am?"

Aragorn laughed outright. "Probably not, Legolas. Let's not scare him now."

Gimli huffed. "Scare a Dwarf, I'd like to see you try."

"I recall you not wanting to enter the Paths of the Dead, dear Gimli," Legolas muttered, hissing at the pain Aragorn was causing as he tied the ends of the bandages off.

"Hmm...yes. Well, I went in didn't I?"

"You went in last. You didn't want to never live it down. Don't think I didn't hear you muttering to yourself after I went inside," the Elf laughed, regretting the action when pain sliced through his side.

"Easy, Legolas. We have quite a long battle ahead of us. Rest easy while you can," Aragorn said, drawing Elf and Dwarf close and gripping both on the shoulder. "We shall continue our hunt then. We still have two more Hobbits to assist, do we not?"

Legolas smiled. "Aye, we do."

Gimli grunted. "We'll draw out those vile minions of Sauron and give those wee Hobbits the chance they need. The world of freefolk will win out, my friends. And our people will sing songs and tell tales of our deeds."

Legolas nodded. "That they will, Gimli, that they will."

**THE END**

* * *

**A/N: WELL Then....there is installment two of this little series. I will probably end up doing something with Aragorn being injured from his fall off the cliff, perhaps someone hurt at the Black Gates, maybe a little Frodo injury in Moria....who knows! Any suggestions???**

**-Gwenneth**


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